The Tea Machine (8 page)

“Be careful.” Sangfroid was at her side, ready for the unexpected. Behind her, Gallo hovered by the door, weapon raised.

“I think I will be perfectly fine.” Millicent watched a translucent ripple spread across the vulnerable pink flesh. The large eye blinked at her again, and she believed it was filled with fright. The creature was scared of her? Her gaze locked with the wide-eyed stare, and she felt herself tumbling towards that fear. It mirrored her experiences of the last few hours, the terror and brutality, the disorientation. Empathy filled the space between herself and the little pink squid.

“I think it’s communicating with me,” she murmured.

“What? Get it out of your head,” Sangfroid snapped. “I told you they mess with your mind.”

“It’s not dangerous. It’s…hurting,” she said.

Gallo flicked a glance at the dish. “Of course it’s hurting,” she said. “Look at the state of the poor little bugger.” There was a grain of compassion and disapproval in her voice, but only a grain; suspicion smothered everything else.

“Why is it here? Why is this one alive when all the others have been dismembered?” Millicent asked.

Sangfroid shrugged. “I don’t know. The senate ploughs zillions into bio-weapons research and uses grubs like us to keep the research ships safe.” She indicated that she and Gallo were the grubs. “I’ve no idea why they didn’t kill it. Maybe they ran out of time?” She looked at the quivering specimen before them. “Pretty, isn’t it? In a gross sort of way.”

Gallo snorted. “Ain’t you the lover-gal today? Why don’t you fall on top of it?”

“It’s a she, Sangfroid, not an ‘it,’” Millicent said. “And this is deliberate.” She waved a hand at the apparatus. “They intended to keep her alive, and for a long time, from the looks of it.”

“It’s a she? How can you tell?” Sangfroid regarded the squid with even greater interest. “I know, I know,” she suddenly crowed with satisfaction. “Because it’s pink!”

Millicent gave a slow, sad sigh. “It’s communicating with me, and I sense this is a female. A young one, too,” she said. “However, should we find a baby blue one, I’ll concede to your theory.”

The far off rumble of explosives shook the floor under their feet. The lights temporarily blinked off and on, and all the glass and steel around them rattled ominously.

“Hull breach! Can we please just go?” Gallo demanded.

Sangfroid grabbed Millicent by the arm. “Come on.”

She struggled free. “We can’t just leave her here. It’s inhumane.”

“We can’t take her with us,” Sangfroid snapped. Gallo waited for them at the exit, rocking impatiently from foot to foot.

“But we could free her and maybe the other squid will find her and save her?”

“Ah, I see. You’ve missed the bit about the whole ship self-detonating anytime now. We need to get to the Kappa escape pods, or we’ll go up with it.” She began dragging Millicent away.

“No.” She shook herself free and ran back to the bench. “Please. It won’t take a moment, and I have to do something. I can’t walk away from this. No one with a speck of decency could. This is torture, plain and simple.” She began to unclip the grips holding small tentacles in place.

After a slight hesitation, Sangfroid pushed her aside and grappled for the clips.

“Okay, but only because it’s a tiddler, otherwise I’d leave it to fry. Go cut the power.” The small squid rippled, and warm colours swam across her mantle illuminating Sangfroid’s face with a healthy rose flush. “Sorry.”

Millicent heard the muttered apology as one particularly awkward clip cut at the tentacle tip and a spot of inky blood smudged the gel in the lab dish. It was as if Sangfroid, too, was in communication with the creature, though in her haste, she did not realize it. Millicent did notice and stored it away for future reference.

While Sangfroid took care of the clips, she went to sever the electrical current to the tank. The cover came away in her hands, and the mass of circuitry inside nested around one large blinking, red switch. Millicent pulled it, since it seemed the most obvious thing to do. Immediately the main laboratory hummed and every light lit up in a blinding blaze.

Gallo shielded her eyes. “You hit the friggin’ main.”

Machinery whirled and blipped into action. Vats began to bubble, and everywhere banks of red and green electrical lights stopped blinking and shone out steadily. The entire lab reanimated as if driven by an invisible workforce. In a tank beside Gallo, a disembodied squid’s heart shuddered then thumped once, twice, and then beat as steadily as it would inside a living creature. “Fuckamo!” Gallo leaped away from it.

In other tanks organs began to twitch. Huge floating squid eyes began to ricochet off the glass walls of their prison. A liver wriggled and frothed to the surface like bloated flotsam. Other organs blew inky bubbles up through the liquids in their containment tanks. It was as if a gruesome carnival had sprung to life, and it chilled Millicent to the bone. Gallo went pale, her weapon ready, and her body tense.

“You’ve activated the whole damned lab.” Sangfroid appeared beside her. “Out! Now!” She grabbed Millicent again with a hold that said she was not letting go.

“Sangfroid!” Gallo called in warning.

There was a thunderous crash behind them and a wall of liquid and shattered glass exploded into the room. The little pink squid curled into a tight ball, distress radiating off her. Millicent and Sangfroid turned towards the destruction. The huge severed tentacle had broken through the walls of its tank and flailed crazily around the laboratory, smashing benches, machinery, and experiments to matchsticks. Its serrated suckers snapped open and shut as if tasting the air, and its vicious barbs quivered and flexed along the muscular arm. With alarming speed, it lurched its way across the lab towards the annex. Sangfroid pushed Millicent behind her and raised her gun to join Gallo in a volley of fire. Together, they fell back farther into the annex; there was nowhere else to go. The lasers tore into the tentacle, gouging out lumps of necrotic flesh, but the thing was blind and mindless. There was no stopping it. It jerked and spasmed under the gun fire, but kept on coming.

The annex doors disintegrated under the weight as it struggled to spill through into the small room. With one almighty shove, Sangfroid sent Millicent sprawling towards the other exit, the one that led out to the corridor.

“Go!” she yelled. “Get out.”

Gallo stepped forward to shield her as she scrabbled on the floor. “When you hit the corridor keep left all the way to Kappa,” she shouted over her gunfire. And then the tentacle was in the annex with them. Sangfroid fired non-stop, moving backwards, drawing the tentacle away from Gallo and Millicent and towards her.

“No,” Millicent screamed when she realized what Sangfroid was doing. Sangfroid was on the wrong side of the annex. She was cornered. The tentacle reared once, higher than before, and crashed towards her. She had nowhere to retreat. It coiled around her in thick, lumpish contractions as she roared out in anger and pain and, before Millicent’s horrified gaze, tightened its hold so its barbs sank deep into Sangfroid’s flesh. Then in one huge, rippling spasm, it tore her into a hundred pieces.

CHAPTER 9

“What!” Sangfroid sat bolt upright.
The Chesterfield went into spasm. She ignored the groans and glared at Millicent instead. “I was killed?” She took a large swig from her wine glass. Then another.

“I know.” Millicent gave a look of deepest sympathy. “It was horrid.”

“I’ve just been ripped apart by a severed squid arm. I’m sorry it was so horrid.”

“Now you’re being facetious, which, by the way, is neither charming nor witty,” she said. “Do you want me to continue or would you rather sulk?”

“There’s more? Don’t tell me it ate me.”

Millicent tutted disapprovingly and sank back into the story. “As you can imagine, there were bits and pieces of you all over the annex—

Gallo let off a hail of gunfire, all the time pushing Millicent towards the exit. The tentacle turned its attention towards her.

“Hit the green button. This is the emergency exit; pray to Looselea it still works,” she yelled at Millicent.

Millicent found the button and hit it with numb fingers. Sangfroid’s image filled her mind with horror. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. The door slid open soundlessly. She and Gallo fell into the corridor and Gallo slammed the door closed to gain them temporary respite from the monster on the other side.

“Now run. We’ve got to reach Kappa before the Amoebas self-destructs,” Gallo ordered and took off down the corridor. Millicent tried to run with her, but her skirts caught at her heels and her legs were uncoordinated. She felt dizzy, as if her head was bloodless with shock. Sangfroid was dead. She was gone. Forever. And Millicent had orchestrated her death. She had refused to obey orders and had delayed their escape. She had done this!
She,
who shouldn’t even have been there in the first place!

“Hurry up, woman!” Gallo was waiting impatiently a little way ahead. Millicent staggered onwards and Gallo turned once more to lead the way. The cold metal walls around Millicent began to melt and the floor lurched up to meet her. The stale odour of the corridor faded, as did the distant booming warfare. For a moment she thought she was swooning, her knees buckled, and then she wondered if the ship had exploded, making it too late for Kappa.

“I got you.” Gallo’s hand gripped hers “Come on, stay with me.” Millicent sank farther. Her legs refused to move. The inky, bloody stains on Gallo’s uniform became a blur, and the corridor spiralled away from her. Her world was spinning wildly, and then she smelled the warm tweed of her brother’s jacket, and Hubert was calling her…and Hubert was calling her…and—“Hubert!” she screamed and clung to his arms.

“Oh Millicent, Millicent.” He cradled her, tears coursing down his puffy cheeks. “In God’s name, what happened to you? I thought I’d lost you for good.” He was babbling in his distress.

He led her to a settee, though she still needed his support to sit upright. She gazed around her incredulously. She was back in Hubert’s laboratory with its smell of leather, pipe tobacco, and chemicals. Familiar books lined the walls, and Hubert’s no-nonsense desk sat squat and solid by the draped windows. A lamp had been lit and cast a welcoming glow. In the hearth a fire crackled happily. She was home at number five, Christie Mews.

“Get rid of that thing!” She pointed an accusing finger at his time machine.

“Yes. Yes. Anything you say,” he agreed at once. “Oh, Millicent. Here, sit up, dear. Let me get you tea. Or perhaps a sherry?”

“Brandy,” she ordered. “A large one.” She sniffled into the back of her hand. Tears coursed down her cheeks unchecked. Her hair hung around her in tatty wisps, and her dress was torn and covered in oil and dirt…and blood. Sangfroid’s blood! Sobs wracked her. She covered her face with shaking hands and still the tears fell through her fingers. Hubert raced to her side and flung himself down on his knees beside her.

“Oh, my dearest sister. Tell me what has happened. When I came home to find no sign of you, the tea tray abandoned, and the machine running wildly with the gears locked… Why, I nearly went mad! It was only by the gravest good fortune I remembered the original gear setting and was able to re-engage the lever. You came into focus soon after. You were only an outline, like a photographic print taking form, then suddenly you were here, solid and in the physical.” He was wringing his hands, distraught by her appearance and tears. “It was extraordinary. You sort of…oozed back into this world, finally solidifying, but looking like this.” He waved a hand at her dishabille. “Are you well? What on earth happened to you?”

She sniffled and took small sips of her brandy as he festooned her with large cotton handkerchiefs he managed to disgorge from every possible pocket.

“Thank you,” she said, dabbing at her eyes. “Hubert, take a seat please and let me tell you a most fantastical and harrowing tale of a discordant and brutal future, and a very, very…” Here she broke down into tears again. Her brother sank into the settee beside her and waited for her to compose herself. “A very wonderful, brave hero,” she sobbed.

“You were crying for me, right?” Sangfroid asked, as if she needed to be sure. “Not Gallo?”

“
Of course
I was crying for you. You’d just died horribly or had you missed that bit?” she snapped. “It’s the crux you are supposed to be looking out for. You’re the one who demanded to hear the story.”

“Just asking.” She seemed a little abashed. “There’s a lot of heroes out there.” Though that came out as false modesty to Millicent’s shrewd ear.

Millicent sighed. “I apologize for being snappish,” she said. “But you must understand, I felt
terrible
. I knew I was responsible, you see. But for Hubert’s infernal machine, I should never have been there, and you would not have died trying to rescue me. I do hope Gallo got away.”

“She was fine the last I saw her. Depending on what timeline it was, I suppose.”

“And where exactly was that?” Millicent asked.

“In my version of events, I last saw Gallo in the hangar. We were joking about meeting up at the bar later. It’s our go to place.” Sangfroid said. “The night before the battle, we were hanging at the Parabellum. It was helluva night, actually. We got totally smashed with some legionnaires Gallo knew from Cygni Gamma, and then we hit the casinos and bordellos.” She stopped when she noticed Millicent’s arctic stare.

“I knew it!” Sangfroid was on her feet again. “This is an Elysian test, and you
are
a Hesperidean maiden come to test my worthiness.”

“I am no such thing. I am not even sure what a Hesperidean maiden is, and I have no wish to know.” She held up a hand to stop any further explanations. “And rest assured your worthiness in neither here nor there to me, Decanus Sangfroid.”

“So…” Sangfroid sat back down. “If I’m dead, how come I’m sitting here talking to you in this timeline?”

“Because I interfered,” she said. “Somewhere out there is a timeline where you hopefully survived the battle on the Amoebas and went on to meet Gallo at the Parabellum club.”

“Bar. The Parabellum is a bar, not a club.” Sangfroid snorted in derision at the idea. “You should see it; it’s the biggest booze hole for every reprobate species in the galaxy. All the troopers from around—”

“Bar, club, they’re all places where nothing of any good ever happens,” Millicent declared. “So, we have two timelines. This one, which is mine. And then there is the timeline where I arrived on the Amoebas and you were violently torn asunder.”

“Are you sure about that? I don’t feel dead. Maybe I can stay here in one piece until you figure out how to get me back to the Parabellum?”

“No, you cannot stay here. It can’t be like that. Hubert is working on getting you back to your proper timeline. Preferably in one piece and staying that way,” she said. “You don’t belong here, and I can’t go around inventing military ranks and imaginary platoons for you; someone is bound to notice you don’t fit.”

“Those ladies didn’t notice.”

“Those ladies wouldn’t notice if the house was on fire as long as there’s a servant to put it out.”

Sangfroid took a chance. “They seemed to think Millicent and the major fit well enough. If I recall correctly.” It was a clumsy attempt to flirt, and Millicent blushed violently, as Sangfroid sort of hoped she would. Maybe Millicent liked her back? A smart rat-a-tat on the door ended their conversation before she could explore further. Hubert entered, his faced wreathed in a relieved smile.

“Just popping in to let you know I’ve managed to escape the paleobotanists, but it won’t be long before tea is served, and they’ll be baying for Sangfroid, heart, mind, and soul,” he said and shot Sangfroid a mischievous glance.

“I haven’t managed to clean her up yet.” Millicent gave Sangfroid’s filthy uniform a disappointed look. “We’ve been too busy talking.”

“And how is that going?” Hubert asked.

“Unsurprisingly difficult,” Millicent said. “And we’ve only just started.”

“There’s more?” Sangfroid was disconcerted.

Hubert held out a black drape coat and a rather natty top hat. “These were my father’s. He was a large man, and some of his stuff might very well fit. Well, almost fit.” He ran a calculating eye over Sangfroid’s frame. “Let’s go to upstairs and see what we can find.” He looked to Millicent for approval, and she nodded in agreement.

“She can’t go about dressed as she is. She’ll get arrested. I’ll have her uniform sent out and laundered for the morning,” she said.

“I don’t need laundering.” Sangfroid suspiciously studied the coat Hubert held out. “This stuff just sponges off. See.” She scratched a fingernail over a particularly crusty patch to prove her point.

Hubert paled as a nodule of human skin pinged off. “It will take more than a sponge and scratch to get past the doorman at the Prometheus club.”

“We’re going to a club?” Sangfroid perked up. “Is that like a bar?”

“No, the Prometheus club is for gentlemen of a scientific persuasion.” Hubert led her to the door. “What say you try on a clean pair of trousers and maybe a shirt, then we’ll head for my club, and I’ll explain more over a brandy, ’eh?”

Sangfroid hesitated and plucked her uniform, obviously loath lose it.

“The ladies will be disappointed to have missed you,” Hubert said, noting the lack of enthusiasm. “Of course, if you’d rather stay here and have tea with them instead?” he added. Sangfroid shrugged out off her uniform jacket in double quick time and dragged on the proffered coat.

“This fits fine.” She tugged hard at the short sleeves. “Let’s go.”

Hubert and Millicent’s father may have been a big man, but he was no match for Sangfroid’s dimensions.

“Good man,” Hubert approved.

“But I’m not a man.” Sangfroid lips twisted in disapproval. “Why does everybody get that wrong?”

“Because, for this age, you are so far removed from the feminine norm, I suppose,” Hubert said. “And it’s best to keep it like that for as long as you’re visiting. ’Eh, Major, old boy?” He winked. “Now, what say we find you some clean trousers and a shirt, and then we’ll be on our way.”

“So, we’re going to a club?” Sangfroid refocused on the interesting part, giving up the battle over civilian clothes. “And that’s not the same as a bar?”

“It has brandy.” Hubert patted her on the shoulder. “And I’ll wager you need some.”

“Please be careful,” Millicent called after them.

“Oh, we will,” Hubert reassured her.

“Hey, I’m dead. What else can go wrong?” Sangfroid looked over her shoulder and gave Millicent her most inappropriate grin.